So I'm Satan?
by satachiha08
Summary: Chris Halliwell is emotionally unstable and completely detached from everyone, despite Wyatt's attempts. But no one realizes how far he's gone until he gets a letter from Hell. This is my first Charmed story.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, this is my first Charmed fic. The idea has been bothering me for a while so I decided to write it out. Feedback would be appreciated and honored.

--

Chris Halliwell was laying on the roof of his house yet another night. He had made it a habit by now, staring up into the sky waiting for something to come and blow his brains out. Every night since his eighth birthday he would orb up to the roof and lie down watching the stars. Often he would fall asleep before he remembered to come down and send his family into fits when they couldn't find him. They had done everything, therapy, blessings, potions, camp, nothing could help him. Every night at ten o clock he would orb up to the roof and stay there until someone came to get him in the morning.

--

Chris woke up in his bed lying on his back. Big brother Wyatt or Leo must have carried him home. Piper was calling him down for breakfast. Chris went down to find his mother frying some eggs on the stove.

"Hi peanut," she smiled, "What do you want for breakfast?" She didn't mention anything about his habit.

"It's okay, Piper. I'm not hungry." Chris watched the smile fall off her face. He would have thought she got over it by now. Chris never called her mom. That was Wyatt. Always Wyatt.

Speak of the devil (or angel); there was the savior of the world coming down right now, pillow marks, boxers, and all. "What's for breakfast?" he asked groggily.

"I'll whip you up some pancakes, honey." Piper said.

Wyatt sat down and started going on about the football game that the school won yesterday. "You saw how I pummeled that wide receiver and managed to score the final touchdown? One minute it looked like we were about to lose and the next we're into the regional tournament and Ashley Cathers wants to go out with me. High school rules!"

_For you, maybe. Conceited jock. Maybe you should try making yourself something to eat once in a while. You're old enough._ Chris didn't say any of these things aloud. He just excused himself. If he heard anymore boasting in the next half hour he would probably start vomiting. He didn't stop to look at the concern on his parent's faces.

Chris climbed up to his room which was opposite from Wyatt's. He and Wyatt were polar opposites. While Wyatt's room was overflowing with awards and trophies, a computer and TV with an LCD screen and a DVD player, Chris's looked relatively apathetic and empty. He had a plain bed with a wooden frame and blue covers, a desk with a laptop that he bough on sale for homework, and a dresser by his bed for nighttime reading. The only thing that disclosed any facts about the person that stayed in this room was a stack of books about different properties of plants, history, and the origin of dragons.

Chris tentatively lied down on his bed. After hours of resting on a hard surface, the soft mattress was very appealing to his muscles. He felt his eyes getting heavier when his head touched the pillow. Wyatt decided at that time to barge in. Well, to be fair, he didn't exactly barge in just knock loudly. Wyatt wasn't fair to anybody, why did he deserve to be treated fairly? Because Chris wasn't like Wyatt; he would never turn into that spoiled child.

"Hey Chrissy… are you awake?" Wyatt asked. Why did he talk to him as if he was unstable? He wasn't unstable! He was perfectly sane! "I'm heading to school so I could, you know, drop you off at the library on the way if you want me to."

"Sure, I need to drop some books off." Chris made himself get up. "My things are ready."

He grabbed a purple backpack filled with notebooks, arithmetic textbooks, and other books fiction and nonfiction and ran down the stairs into the passenger seat of the old Buick, Wyatt right beside him "to make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

Once they were on the road the usual interrogation started. Wyatt asked, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"You're the one that brought me down aren't you?" It wasn't a question.

Wyatt continued looking at the road. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday. Lunch. Let me off here, I'll walk."

Conceited Jock didn't listen like always. "No. I'm not letting you."

"You're not in charge of me." Chris pounded on the window.

"Calm down, Chris!" Wyatt took his wrists and lowered them back down. "Chris, stop!"

"No, no, no! You're not in charge of me! I can manage _myself_!"

"Yes, Chris, yes you can. Now all you need is to calm down. We're almost there. Then, you'll have me off your back for the rest of the morning." _What if I don't want you off my back, "dear brother"? What if I just want you __**gone**__? _A powerful surge of hate coursed through Chris and he barely managed to contain it. He didn't know everything. But he certainly knew more than Wyatt; and one day, it would cripple him. Wyatt that is.

Wyatt dropped him off in front of the door and shouted back, "Dad's coming at 10. You know where to be." Yes, _Wyatt_. He does know where to be.

--

_Dragons used to be found bountifully in Eurasia and Australia. Today, in the 20__th__ century however, they can only be found in remote parts of China, the Poles, and the Underworld…_

That's the type of stuff that Chris read about on his spare time, which was almost all the time. He had been homeschooled after the first week of first grade when the teacher complained that he sat alone during recess, and the counselor addressed his "suicidal thoughts". It wasn't his fault that teachers don't know anything about demons. "Tell the truth", Piper had said, so that was what he did. All that got him was a referral to a professional child psychologist. After that, Leo gave him a lecture on what he could and could not say to strangers and people who didn't know about Wicca.

Leo orbed on time in the janitor's closet. Without a word they orbed back to the kitchen. "Stay here," Leo said. That was a change, usually Leo would try to make a conversation and give up in five minutes when he'd find out he couldn't.

He came back a few seconds later holding a black letter with white print. Even Chris's eyes widened in shock:

_Mr. Christopher Halliwell,_

_You have been chosen out of a list of qualified participants to compete for the chance to become the Leader of Hell. Await guidance Friday, Witching Hour._

_--The Source _


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you think this is, Chris?" Leo asked him in a strained voice. He was also trembling.

This was a turn of events. Chris had never been invited into anything before. Chosen sounded better. Like he was _important_ or something.

Like Wyatt.

Chris didn't want to be like Concieted Jock. Then he would be prancing around everywhere bragging about that _touchdown_ he made or that _"hot girl"_ he tricked into having sex with him. That would be worse than _everything_.

But he wouldn't become like Wyatt. Wyatt was the Twice Blessed, an angel. He would become the complete opposite, _Satan_. Chris wanted that.

"It looks like a letter from the new Source, telling me that I'm going to be shoved into a contest to become the new Satan or die," Chris told him secretly marveling at the white shade of pale that his biological father's skin faded into.

"S-satan was an old Leader of Hell, right before they got rid of them. There aren't supposed to be in the Underworld's government anymore. They haven't been for _centuries_."

"Well apparently Leo, the new Source, whoever he is, brought them back and is now holding a job interview to figure out who he wants, and I'm a candidate," Chris laughed. Leo looked like a corpse!

"I'm going to check with the elders. We'll get you out of this, Chris. Don't go anywhere." Chris stopped mid-laugh. How _dare_ that—that _angel_ tell him what he could and couldn't do?

"NO! I don't want you to!" he screamed at the top of his lungs causing the ceiling lights to shake and letting almost every whitelighter in the world know what emotion he was feeling. Leo orbed back before he had a chance to get to Elderland.

(AN That always makes me laugh. Elderland, land of the grandpas! Lol back to Chris)

"Chris please calm down," Leo coaxed Chris to calm down being careful to control the tone of his voice lest Chris found something that would make him even more upset.

"Don't call them," Chris sobbed. "I want to do this."

"What do you mean?" Disbelief laced Leo's voice as he asked, "Why would you want to turn into a _demon_?"

"I won't become a demon, I'll become powerful."

"I-I'm going up there to make sure a demon hasn't planted this."

He orbed away leaving Chris sobbing on the floor.

--

_I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. __**I hate him.**_Chris thought with all his will power still lying on the kitchen floor where his father had left him. By now his sobs had dissolved into whimpering and his whimpering had dissolved into a very fragile state of mind.

Chris didn't know how long he was lying on the floor. After a while the cool tile became strangely… soothing. He felt himself going into a deep slumber. His mind was detached from everything around him except for the feeling of clean, smooth tile. It was very smart of Page to decide to make the mansion more "modern" and "out of the 19th century." Chris really did like Page…

--

"This was predicted, Leo," said an Elder when Leo orbed in with a blazing worry and rage.

"I am _not _going to allow my son to participate some kind of underground bloodsport!" Leo roared, quickly ruining the peace and hushed silence on the cloud.

"Please calm down, Leo," the other Elder tried to reason. "Nothing will happen to your son."

"You don't know that! They're _demons_, they are going to murder my son!"

"Leo, although the methods demons use may be brutal at times according to the laws no permanent damage can be inflicted on Christopher as long as he remains a participant," another Elder added.

"There is no way this is happening! I want him _out_ of this today!" Leo yelled causing the cloud to tremble slightly.

"It's not that simple, Leo and please do try to control your voice. You're frightening everyone." The number of orbs was proof enough. "The demonic contract was signed when the letter breached his sanctuary. Chris is recognized as a warrior fighting to stand at the right hand of the new Source of all evil."

"_According to what contract_?! The Satanic Contract has been inactive for centuries!"

"Inactive, but not nonexistent. The new Source feels that the time is ripe to bring the competition back. I do not know the full details, but the Source has contacted the High Council and gained approval to search for and contact possible competitors by any means necessary. If you get in the way, the Council will have no choice but to exterminate you."

"This is… impossible. He's my son, the son of a Charmed One! There's no way he can be the Leader. He doesn't have it in him!"

"Time changes, Leo. People too. Isn't it true that in another timeline your oldest son, Wyatt, was once the Source? Perhaps it is Times way of evening things out. Titles such as "Source" and "Leader" are relative. There is no guarantee that Chris will turn evil even if he is at a position to be. It isn't even certain that he will win the competition. There are precisely one hundred contestants from six different realities and time periods. The chance is small, Leo. Your son is in the best of hands."

Leo not having vented out even half of his frustrations, decided to think things over when his eyes locked with the chocolate circles of the young Elder.

"I will get to the bottom of this even if I die for it."

"I hoped you were better than this, Leo." The Elder responded to Leo's fading orbs.

--

Chris was in hell, figuratively. Wyatt had walked in, going to get a soda from the fridge, when he saw his brother's body sprawled on the kitchen floor. Wyatt didn't waste any time orbing him from the kitchen to the couch. Chris whined. He liked the tile. Soon, the whines turned into scream, and the screams turned into an outright tantrum.

Wyatt was probably trying to sooth him, but why would Chris listen?

--Wyatt's POV

Wyatt was surprised to see his kid brother passed out on the floor, but not entirely shocked. Things with Chris just happened like this, first the roof, then the trunk, and now the kitchen floor. He orbed him to the couch hopefully trying to put him in a more comfortable position, but Chris had other ideas. At first it was a pitiful loud moan, but then it escalated to hitting the couch. Not going well…

Wyatt decided to put Chris inside a bubble when the house started shaking out of Chris's discomfort until Page or someone came back.

Where the hell was Leo?

--

Leo orbed back to the kitchen to find that Chris had disappeared. He nearly got a panic attack. "Chris!" he yelled and walked out in the living room to find his youngest son enclosed in a protective bubble having a tantrum, with Wyatt trying to calm him down unsuccessfully.

"Fuck, Dad! What did you do?" Wyatt shouted distracting himself from the bubble almost losing Chris, in the process. He barely managed to keep the boy in.

"He was fine when I left him," Leo said, "I've never seen him this angry."

"Fine? I found him passed out on the ground like some… drunk!"

"Listen, Wyatt, now is a very stressful time in Chris's life. Maybe you should settle down a bit."

"Stress, what stress? Chris doesn't have to do anything! And you know what? It frickin' bothers me! Why does Chris get to climb to the roof every night and get to have anyone he wants drive him everywhere while I'm stuck cleaning up after him?"

"Chris is sick, Wyatt! Don't talk like that!"

"He's always been this way. It doesn't mean he can't hold a _job_."

"Listen to me, Wyatt. Read this." Leo handed the letter to Wyatt. He looked confused for a minute before his eyes bulged and his face turned three shades paler.

"Oh my god. I'm going to go get this taken care of right now. No way is my little brother getting involved with demons."

"It's too late Wyatt. The contract has already been signed. There's nothing we can do except help Chris to the best of our abilities."

Wyatt just remembered that Chris was right next to them probably listening. He looked and found him passed out with bruised knuckles and tear streaks on his face. How was he going to be able to fight the Source?


End file.
